


Being Sick Sucks

by mandysimo13



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sick Fic, care-taker aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 10:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21300425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: Crowley wakes up sick and Aziraphale takes care of him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 149





	Being Sick Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> I was unbelievably sick yesterday and I thought of our two idiot husbands. So now you all get some sick-fic. Enjoy!

Crowley awoke with the kind of panic that one only gets when one knows that not only are they incredibly sick but that they are about to be sick in their bed if they don’t get the heaven up _ right this second. _

With a wave of his arm, the blanket was thrown off him and he was scrambling out of bed towards the bathroom, hand pressed firmly over his mouth. Knees hit the tile floor and Crowley bent his head into the toilet. Tears collected at the corners of his eyes, his nose ran, and his stomach worked on ridding itself of its contents as he heaved into the bowl. Feeling absolutely miserable, Crowley’s hands clutched at the porcelain beneath him while he submitted to the needs of his body. 

When the heaving finally stopped, Crowley closed the lid of the toilet, flushed it, and leaned his sweating head against the cool porcelain, groaning in misery. He weakly wiped his lips with the back of his hand, cursing his stubbornly human corporation. 

“Are you alright, dear,” Aziraphale asked softly from the doorway. 

Crowley let loose a groan and raised his head. “Do I look alright?” 

Aziraphale offered a contrite smile and came to kneel beside him. He rubbed his back and asked, “anything I can do to help?” 

“Miracle whatever this _ sickness _ is away immediately.” He leaned heavily into his angel and felt arms come around to hold him gently. 

Aziraphale chuckled softly and brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “Afraid I can’t do that, love. Can heal a broken bone or cure cancer but I can’t get a common virus to go away. It’s an unfortunate shortcoming of heaven’s miracles, I’m afraid. They feel a certain amount of suffering “builds character”. Personally, I think they’re all full of it but-”

Crowley jerked in his hands and pulled away to quickly slam open the lid of the toilet so he could vomit once more. When it was over Crowley croaked out, “water.” Aziraphale kindly whipped up a glass of water and Crowley sipped it, rinsing his mouth before spitting into the toilet and flushing it again. He took a sip and handed it back to Aziraphale before standing on shaky legs. Aziraphale helped him crawl back into bed and sat atop the duvet, stroking Crowley’s aching head. 

“Poor dear,” he whispered sympathetically. 

“Kill me,” Crowley said miserably, stomach and head aching with nausea. 

Aziraphale sniffed in amusement. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re no help at all.”

“Hush.” He tried to rise and Crowley snatched his wrist in his grasp and tugged to keep him from moving away but Aziraphale shushed him once more. “I’ll not be gone long, just going to get a couple things. I’ll be right back, my dear.” 

“Just miracle it,” Crowley pleaded. “Don’t leave.” 

Aziraphale smiled at him. “Thought I was ‘no help at all’.”

Crowley groaned into the pillow. “Don’t be a bastard.” 

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head and promised he’d be right back and this time Crowley let him go, too weak to protest. Crowley’s head swam with nausea, and his lower body gurgled with displeasure. He tried rolling into a ball but that made his stomach hurt. He tried laying on his back but that made him feel like he’d vomit again. He really wanted to lay on his stomach like a proper snake but knew that would be A Bad Plan™. He took time to arrange the many pillows on their bed into a little nest meant to prop him up and settled into it. He found this to be the best position as the nausea stayed away. So long as he didn’t move. 

Aziraphale returned to their room with a huge basket overflowing with items. Crowley peeked his eyes open, curious. “What’s all that?” 

“Supplies,” Aziraphale responded cheerfully. “I see you’ve made the bed up nicely for yourself.” 

“S’the only comfortable way to lay,” Crowley whined pitifully. 

“First thing’s first,” Aziraphale took the big blanket sitting at the top of the basket and spread it out over him. “This is lightweight but will keep you warm while you languish-”

“Not languishing-”

“Of course not,” Aziraphale replied with a smirk. Next he pulled out a pot and placed it next to the bed. “Not the most dignified, but it’ll do in a pinch. Oh, don’t make that face at me. If you don’t use it then that’s tickety-boo, but I’d rather you have it and not need it than the alternative.” Crowley huffed in agreement and settled aggressively into his nest. Next thing out of the basket was an enormous heating pad and that immediately grabbed Crowley’s attention. 

Aziraphale softly ushered him to move, “up you go. There’s a lad.” He slid the pad under Crowley’s back and switched it on. Within a few seconds the pad started to heat up and Crowley made a murmur of happiness. “That should help with your poor muscles. You’re going to be very stiff after all this, I imagine.” 

A snap of the angel’s fingers and everything on Crowley’s nightstand had vanished and he began putting the rest of the items on top of it. Gatorade, a large bottle of water, a box of salted crackers, tissues, and a package of wet wipes. Crowley blamed his weakened state for the tears that started to gather at the corner of his eyes. Before the end of the world, before averting the apocalypse, before dinner at the Ritz and their toast to the world, Crowley would never have been able to imagine being so loved. But he felt Aziraphale’s love for him coming at him in gentle waves, like those on a calm shore. Comforting, warm, unhurried, unstoppable. 

Aziraphale wiped the tears away with his thumb, cupping Crowley’s cheek. “Poor demon.” 

“Shaddup,” Crowley said, kissing Aziraphale’s palm. “How’d you know how to,” he waved his hand over all the stuff Aziraphale provided, “this?” 

“I’ve done my fair share of creeping in and out of hospitals and sickrooms. Picked up a thing or two.” He picked up the Gatorade and said, “this stuff right here works wonders. Does far more than rehydrate athletes, to be sure.” He cracked it open and held it out for Crowley to take. 

Crowley took a sip before passing it back. “It’s certainly no chateauneuf du pap.”

Aziraphale laughed and took it back, placing it back on the nightstand. “No it isn’t.” The doorbell to the shop downstairs rang and Aziraphale jumped in surprise. “Oh dear, that should be your bone broth. Be just a moment, love.” 

“Bone broth?” Crowley’s confused words rang in an empty room. He shrugged, submitting completely to being mother-henned by his fussy angel. When Aziraphale returned it was with a large take-away tub full of warm broth. The smell made Crowley’s nose twitch in distaste and he hissed at it. 

“I know you don’t generally like to eat things, my dear, but I promise this will help you feel better.” 

“It smells.” 

“It has an odor, yes. Your tummy doesn’t like it right now, I’m sure.” At Crowley’s nod Aziraphale miracled it to their fridge. “We’ll try it in a couple hours. After you’ve had a chance to rest.” 

Crowley licked his dry lips and beckoned for Aziraphale to come to him. Aziraphale joined him on the bed, careful not to jostle the poor demon. “You’re too good to me,” Crowley whispered, starting to nod off.” 

“I’m just making up for lost time, my love.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead and said, “now, time to sleep.” He placed his hand on Crowley’s head and whispered, “sleep soundly, and dream of whatever you like best.” 

“Like you best,” Crowley murmured, already half asleep.

Aziraphale smiled and replied, “then dream of me.” 

And Crowley did.


End file.
